


A Familiar Taste

by rohruh (orphan_account)



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Self-Lubrication, Slavery, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rohruh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bane and John are soulbonded Alpha/Omega slaves owned by Ra's al Ghul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John’s heat has been building steadily for the past few hours. It started as a gentle hum, a tingly itch underneath his skin that held him on edge, but now it’s progressed to a frantic jumble of _want_ and _need_ and _Bane_. His ass is leaking, wet and slippery and ready to be filled. 

He can feel Bane’s frustration building as well. When they work themselves into this state, their communicated becomes limited to pulses of emotion. Bane is angry. He wants to claim what is his, to fuck John into the ground and fill him up with his knot and his seed. The longer they’re kept apart, the more frenzied they both become.

He jerks at the chain rooting him in place. It’s a fruitless attempt. The thick metal chain is attached to his collar and bolted into the wall.

He wants Bane. He wants him now, here, surrounding him with his scent and his touch. John is panting already, his legs spread and his hips bucking, a small whine stuck in his throat. 

The door to his cell swings open and his guard steps in. “You ready, Pup?” John nods eagerly.

He hates this. Every time, he tells himself that he’s not going to give in. He won’t put on a show for them, no matter how badly he wants Bane. When the time comes, though, he’s always too far gone to care. He wants Bane in him _. Now._

The guard unlocks his collar from the chain and clips on a leash. “Let’s go then.”

John stands on wobbly legs. He’s wearing only a pair of black boxer-briefs, already so wet that they’ve become uncomfortable, but he’ll keep them on for as long as he can.

The guard leads him down a narrow hallway. He gives John’s ass a generous squeeze. “You smell delicious. Ready to put on a show for us, slut?” John knows to keep his mouth shut. He feels a flash of anger from Bane; he hates it when other people touch John like that. They enter a small room with one final door. This is the door that leads to the Pit.

“Have fun, Pup,” the guard gives him a vulgar grin. He opens the door, unclips John’s leash, and shoves him in.

It’s cold in the Pit. John feels the chill, his nipples pebbling, but at the same time he’s so _so hot_.

He looks up towards his audience. The Pit is small circular arena surrounded by rows of seats spiraling upwards. The audience is protected by a tall wall that not even Bane could breach. Their Master, Ra’s al Ghul, sits at the front. Sometimes, the Pit is used for fights or competitions. Today, everyone is here to watch John get fucked. The seats are filled with Masters, most accompanied by their slaves.

Bane is still shackled in his cell. They’re dragging this out, waiting until John is pathetic and too desperate for it to function. He keens.

He wants Bane so badly.

John paces along the edge of the Pit. His heart is hammering in his chest. “If you want your mate so badly, you’re going to have to prepare yourself for him, John.” R’as smirks cruelly. Their eyes meet, and John glares at his Master. Ra’s looks amused.

John’s knows how this goes. He must do as he’s told if he wants to see Bane.  He jerks his underwear down his hips and kicks them aside, reaching back touch at his hole tentatively.

His whole body relaxes and sighs with relief when he pushes the first finger in. His cock starts to fill, jumping to attention. One finger isn’t enough, though, and after a couple of thrusts he adds in a second and then a third. Soon enough he’s fucking himself with his hand, cock hard and curving towards his belly. He drops to his knees and starts fucking himself in earnest, spreading his thighs as wide as he can.

He looks up at Ra’s, and Ra’s nods.

John feels it when they enter Bane’s cell. His cock jerks up and spurts out a trickle of precum. He lets out a small whine. He wants to grab his cock, smear the precum down the shaft and start jerking himself in time with the fingers in his ass, but he needs to wait for Bane. He feels him approaching, being led towards the Pit closer and closer until he’s _there_ , just outside the door, so close John can almost feel him. Bane is radiating a possessive thrum of lust so powerful that John feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

The door opens and finally, _finally_ , they’re together. Bane has his mask on still, a safety precaution because without it he would be too strong for any guard and completely unmanageable. It keeps him drowsy and weak, still powerful and threatening but contained enough that he can be controlled. John hates the mask.

They stare at each other for a moment, both too overwhelmed to react, and then Bane lunges for him. They tumble together and Bane growls possessively, tearing at his pants to free his cock. He fits himself behind John and just shoves in, one smooth movement until he’s snug where he belongs and filling John up just like he needs. They stay like that for a moment, both too wrapped up in the feeling of being together to move just yet. John is full, perfectly and deliciously full. Bane rests his chin on John’s shoulder and he can feel the gentle puffs of warm air as he exhales against him. In this moment, he wants nothing more than to kiss him. Bane wants it too, John can feel it.

Bane reaches forward to grab onto John’s shoulders. He leans back and pulls out, just briefly, before shoving back in. He starts up with a brutal pace, fucking John hard and quick. They’ve both been waiting too long to prolong this.  

Bane lasts a couple of minutes before he digs his fingers into John’s shoulders and squeezes, pulling out one last time and slamming in with such force that John is knocked onto his elbows. John’s ass is flooded with come, warm and full. Bane’s cock swells at the base, impossibly big and growing bigger, absolutely perfect and just what John needs.

Bane leans in close to his ear, “You’re mine, John. Mine and no one else’s. I’m going to fill you up with my seed and keep filling you, and you’re going to take it.”

John whimpers. He is still so hard. His erection has been leaking steadily the entire time, his cock jumping in time with Bane’s thrusts. He knows he’s not allowed to touch himself until the end, though. It’s a rule that Bane has given him and as much as he wants to grab his cock and jerk himself hard until he comes, nothing feels as good as pleasing his mate.  

They stay like that for a few minutes while they wait for Bane’s knot to go down. Their time is limited. The audience is starting to get bored and restless, and John wants to ignore them, but he knows that if they don’t start up again soon then Ra’s will intervene. He clenches around Bane and Bane gets the message, leaning back and wiggling until his cock slips out of John. He starts to fuck him again, less frenzied now that the first orgasm is out of the way.

They fuck for hours, until John’s hole is loose and wet and he can’t hold himself up anymore. He’s sprawled out on the ground, ass in the air and legs wide, while Bane continues to pound into him. He’s hitting his prostate relentlessly. John is absolutely boneless. He doesn’t know when he started to cry, but he’s wailing desperately into his forearm in time with Bane’s thrusts. He needs to come so badly.

John would do anything to stay with Bane like this forever. Ra’s has other plans though, he always does. Their collars buzz and constrict, a message from Ra’s that time is almost up.

“Are you ready to come for me, John? You’ve been such a good boy. Such a good boy for me,” Bane whispers to him. John nods into his arm. Bane stills and eases himself out, stroking John’s back gently. He grips John by the hips and flips him around so they’re face to face. He crowds back over him and boxes him in, gathering John’s face in his hands while he slides back into him. They press their foreheads together as close as can be, relishing in their last few moments together.

John presses a kiss to Bane’s mask. Bane stills. He closes his eyes and shudders, a wave of longing and sadness passing between them. Bane kisses him back through the mask, and it’s not nearly enough but it will do. “I love you,” Bane whispers, and just like that John is coming so hard that everything turns white, and Bane’s knot it swelling in him one last time, and it is all so wonderful and bittersweet and John wishes with all of his heart that this moment would never end.

They cling to each other, riding through the aftershocks of their orgasms. John kisses Bane’s eyes, his cheeks, his chin. “I’m yours. No matter what happens, I’m yours and you are mine,” he whispers back. They lay there for a while longer until Bane's knot finally goes down.

The door opens and two guards step into the arena. Bane could take them both down easily, could fight his way through half of the security surrounding them probably, even with the mask on. It wouldn’t be worth it, though, and they both know it.

They untangle from each other and stand. The same guard that led John to the Pit has come to bring him back. John walks towards him, looking purposefully away so he doesn’t have to see the knowing look in his eyes. The guard clips his leash back on, gives it a jerk, and turns to lead him back towards his cell. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly John for the next little bit! I apologize for the feels in advance, it's going to be a bumpy road for him.

John’s life before Bane was long and aimless and really quite sad. He went through the motions and did what he had to because that’s what he was supposed to do, and there wasn’t much of a reason not to.

And then he met Bane, and all for the first time ever his life had meaning. He finally understood what true, genuine happiness was, and what it meant for his heart to be so full that it absolutely consumed him. He learned how seeing Bane’s eyes crinkle when he smiled could make his heart swell and knock the breath right out of him and just make him feel so full to the brim with love.

 ***

John doesn’t remember his parents—they both died when he was very young. He was sent to a boys’ home run by a man named Mr. Ross. Mr. Ross was cruel. He punished the boys for no reason and made them work long and hard hours. The bigger boys who were strong and built well were sent to do hard labor. The younger boys were given chores around the house, like cooking and cleaning. Everything was strictly regimented. 

John worked in the kitchen preparing meals and scrubbing dishes. He kept to himself and stayed out of trouble, and he got along well with the other boys.

Shortly after his 16th birthday, Mr. Ross called him into his office. “I can’t help but notice what a nice young man you’ve grown into, John. Come around my desk and let me have a good look at you.” John had heard rumors about Mr. Ross’s interest in some of the boys. He had never considered himself all that attractive, what with his big ears and awkwardly wiry frame, but Mr. Ross seemed to think otherwise. He ran his hands down John’s chest appraisingly, cupping his groin and then moving back up towards his shoulders. He gave a small push. John looked up at him with wide eyes. “Down,” Mr. Ross commanded, and John dropped to his knees. He was too terrified to do otherwise.

Mr. Ross reached for his belt buckle and undid his pants, pushing them down just past his balls. John had never seen another man’s cock before. Mr. Ross coaxed him through it, grabbing the back of John’s head and holding him in place. The taste was vile. He gagged and sputtered as Mr. Ross tried to force his way deeper and deeper. It didn’t take long before he was spilling down John’s throat and sending him on his way with an appreciative nod.

John spent the rest of the day in the bathroom, sick to his stomach. 

*** 

Mr. Ross started to call John to his office every week. John knew that it wasn’t his place to argue. He had it better off than most of the other boys; he wasn’t beaten for no reason or forced to work for 18 hours a day. If he was sick, he was even given medicine. 

This is how things worked:

John’s parents were poor, and they left him no money. He was going to be sold into slavery on his 17th birthday, as all of the boys were.

There were two ways to become a slave: one was either sold into slavery, or condemned to slavery as punishment. People like John, who had no money and no one to take responsibility for them, had no choice in the matter. If his parents had lived, things would have been different. But they were gone, and the oh-so-charitable Mr. Ross needed to be repaid for going out of his way to look after the boys.

He hadn’t encountered many slaves before; nobody that he knew was rich enough to own one. He had a vague idea of what was in store for him, but he didn’t like to put much thought into it. That would make it a reality, and John preferred to remain blissfully ignorant for as long as he was able. 

***

When he was 16 ½, John came down with something. His skin felt tingly and hot, like a fever creeping over his whole body. Nothing could relieve the sensation. He tried his best to ignore it at first, but it kept getting worse instead of better.

He woke up one morning writhing in pain, his whole body pulsing with something he didn’t quite understand.

Mr. Ross came to look at him, inspecting him from head to toe and then flipped him onto his stomach. He pulled John’s pants down and John whimpered and stilled, terrified. 

“Oh, John,” Mr. Ross exclaimed. “You’re a special little boy, aren’t you?”

He told John that the pain was going to get worse but that eventually it would go away in a few days.

John was an Omega, and this was his first heat. As much as Mr. Ross wanted to fuck him senseless, the boy was beautiful and he would sell for a fine price. But finding out that he was an Omega meant so much more, and a _virgin_ Omega at that.

John was moved to his own room for the rest of his heat, to make sure that nobody touched him. He squirmed and kicked and groaned, begging for something that he didn’t understand.

Eventually it stopped, and he was moved back to his regular room with the rest of the boys, and that was that. 

***

As John’s 17th birthday approached, the reality of his future set in. Mr. Ross would leave with a boy on his 17th birthday, and they all knew that they would never see him again. The next day, someone new  and younger would take over their bed, and all evidence of them ever having been there would slowly disappear.

The days grew shorter and longer at the same time until his birthday was weeks away, days away, hours away. John said a solemn goodbye to the friends that he had left at the home and packed a bag with his few belongings.

Mr. Ross summoned John to his office for one final blowjob, and then he led him to his car and took him away.

This was John’s first time leaving the home since he had arrived, he realized.

 Mr. Ross took him to a building that was cold and metal and sterile. There they met a man named Maurice, who shook Mr. Ross’s hand and then turned to look at John greedily.

“An Omega, you say? And still a virgin”

“Yes, he had his first heat a few months ago.” Mr. Ross responded.

Maurice grabbed John’s chin and turned his head from side to side. “He is quite pretty. I’ll give you five thousand for him.”

“Ten,” Mr. Ross countered.

“Seven thousand,” Maurice snapped.

“Eight thousand and we have a deal.” They held each other’s gazes for a moment and then Maurice nodded.

“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Ross. Eight thousand for the boy.” They shook hands. Mr. Ross left the room. 

"Come along, then," Maurice grabbed John by the neck and steered him forward. "We have lots of work ahead of us."

And thus, the next chapter of John’s life began. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all of the John angst. :/

John hated slave training. Not because of the unrealistic expectations, nor the rigid and cruel rules that set him up for failure. John could handle anything thrown at him— he didn’t care enough about himself to let it upset him. What he couldn’t handle was the abuse towards the others. Mr. Ross had been mean, but here you were beaten and starved for three days just for accidentally looking a superior in the eye.

Two weeks into John’s training, he was caught sneaking some of his lunch to the boy beside him. The kid, Dylan, was barely 14 and had been sold to the facility with a badly forged fake ID (not that anyone cared). He was so tiny and frail and obviously underweight that it pained John. They were given three meals a day, different variations of the same bland gruel full of vitamins and devoid of taste, and Dylan needed it more than John did.

They were both punished, made to eat gruel until they vomited and then some more. They went without food for the rest of the week.

John was overcome with guilt. Shadowing that, though, boiling beneath the surface—there was anger. And resentment. For the first time, John began to question his authority. He was no longer complacent to accept his lot in life and move on when there were people around him that he could help. It sparked something inside of him, something devious and daring. He wanted to break the rules. 

He just needed to learn how to do it without getting caught.

***

John being a virgin meant that he would stay that way until he was sold. He was taught to deep throat until it was second nature, and to kneel with perfect posture for hours on end. How to bend in ways he didn’t know his body could, and seduce someone just by baring his neck a certain way, and the proper etiquette for every social situation imaginable. Alongside all of this, he had taken most of the younger kids under his wing.

His deviancy was mostly limited to stealing extra blankets and warmer clothes for them during the winter, but he did what he could. Spring was approaching, and unbeknownst to him, his second heat was coming along with it.

One morning, Maurice personally came to collect him. John hadn’t seen the man since his first day there. His heart hammered in his chest and his stomach clenched with the sickening thought that he had been caught— everyone was going to get in trouble and it was all because of him. Maurice didn’t seem angry, though. He was blunt and gruff but no different than the day John had met him. He led John into the infirmary and had him sit down on the big steel table, where the doctor took his temperature and heart rate and then had him take off his pants so he could look down _there_.

The doctor turned towards Maurice, disregarding John. “He’s coming along nicely. It looks like his heat is due about a week and a half from now.”

“Wonderful,” Maurice grinned. He jerked his chin towards John, “put your pants back on and come with me.” He strode out of the infirmary without a backwards glance and John scampered to catch up with him.

“You listen to me, boy. Some men will be coming to see you over the next few days and you will be on your best behavior. I don’t need to warn you about what will happen if you disobey me, right?” He turned to John with a pointed look. “Next Monday is your selling date. There has already been quite the interest in you, and some of our wealthier clients would like to come have a look at you before it. Do you understand me?”

John felt dizzy and lightheaded. He hadn’t realized this was coming so soon.

“I said _do you understand me_ , boy?” Maurice glowered. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed what an interest you’ve taken in the little weaklings, John. It would be a shame if something were to happen to one of them.” 

“I—I understand, Sir. I will be on my best behavior.”

“Good. Smart boy.” 

John spent the rest of the day getting washed and shaved and primed to look his best. At the end of the day, two different men came to look at him. The same happened the next day, and the one after that.

John played nice. He let everyone pick and prod at him, run their hands over his naked body criticize the small scar he had on his abdomen and his sticky-outy ears. He didn’t eat for half a week, too sick with the thought of what was coming. He knew how to sneak his food to the others without getting caught now, and in a few days he wouldn’t be there to help them anymore.

The thought of sabotaging his sale crossed his mind, but it was a stupid idea and he knew it. Someone would probably still buy him in the end— they would just pay less for him.

His fate was sealed. He could only hope that whoever did buy him wasn’t a complete monster.

***

His actual sale was much less eventful than he had anticipated. The whole thing was done behind closed doors. 

He bathed and dressed in yet another new set of clothes. At half past six, Maurice came to collect him. “You did well, boy. Fetched a pretty penny.” He pulled out a black band of leather and fastened it around John’s neck, clipping on a matching leash.

Maurice told John that his new owner was named Ra’s al Ghul. He was foreign and mysterious and incredibly, incredibly wealthy. He had come to see John on the second night. John remembered him and his cold, calculated gaze. Some of the other men had looked at John with pure predatory lust in their eyes, but Ra’s looked at him like something more. Like a prize to be won.

"I like the finer things in life, you see," he had said to Maurice while running his hands down John's back. "I don't deal well with imperfections. I want only the best."

Maurice led John into the room where Ra’s was waiting and handed him the leash. John kept his gaze down, mindful of the rules.

"We'll have to get you some new clothes and a real, quality collar tomorrow, John," Ra's addressed him, Maurice forgotten. 

Once they were in the back of his limo, Ra’s pushed John down to his knees and then grabbed his chin. “Look at me. I want to see your face.” John met his eyes timidly. “Beautiful,” he breathed, “just stunning.” He let go of John’s chin and his hands moved lower. “Now suck me, slave. Take my cock down your pretty little throat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bane stuff will be coming soon, I promise! John's backstory is almost done. 
> 
> Also, shameless Tumblr plug: http://rohruh.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some non-con in this chapter.

When they arrived at the estate, Ra’s showed him to his room. John had never had his own room before. It was simple, a tiny bed in the corner with a dresser up against the wall and a small bathroom attached. Ra’s had him drop to his knees and suck him off again in his new room, and then he left, locking the door behind him.

The next morning at breakfast, Ra’s went over his expectations with John. He was to wake up at 4:30 every morning and go downstairs for his breakfast. Following breakfast was an hour-long workout with a trainer. Ra’s didn’t want John putting on too much muscle, just a lithe runner’s physique. Afterwards, he was to return to his room to shower, brush his teeth, and get dressed. At 6:30, he would pick up breakfast from the kitchen and bring it to Ra’s. The rest of his day was to be spent following Ra’s around, providing him with whatever services necessary. When Ra’s didn’t want him, he would be sent back to his room. 

The house was huge, with beautiful tall ceilings and spiraling staircases and too many different wings for John to keep track of. He had never been somewhere so grand before.

It all seemed simple enough. John made a few nervous mistakes and was punished for them, but not severely. Ra’s would usually leave for most of the day and didn’t take John with him, so he was left to his own devices. Ra’s usually used his mouth in the morning, and sometimes again at night when he returned home. Three days passed and he found himself slipping into the routine with more and more ease. On the fourth day, though, he woke up with a warm tingly fever spreading down his body.

He pulled himself out of bed and into the kitchen, where the cook handed him his bowl of gruel and an assortment of vitamins. “You don’t look too good, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah—Yeah. I’m just a little warm. I think I might be coming down with something.” She gave him a long pitying look and scooped an extra spoonful of gruel into his bowl.

John took his time eating, willing his body to snap out of it.

He was worried about his fever, but there was something bothering him even more. Ra’s still hadn’t fully used him, and he had no idea why. He was told at the training facility that he was being sold a virgin, and that’s why he hadn’t received the same training as the rest of the slaves. He had assumed—dreaded, but assumed—that his new master would use him straight away. He didn’t know what Ra’s was waiting for. Each day that went by with Ra’s only using his mouth puzzled him.

Once he forced the whole bowl of gruel down, he made his way to the gym. The trainer, Bryce, gave him a curt nod. “You’re just doing a long run today, I’ve already programmed it into the treadmill for you.”

John climbed onto the treadmill and powered it on. He usually liked running; he found it therapeutic. He hoped that today it would help chase away his dizzying fever.

Just as he started to work up a sweat, Bryce sidled up beside him. “You smell,” he paused to inhale sharply through his nose, “different.”

“I’m feeling a little under the weather today.” John offered.

“Hm. No, not like that. It’s a... good different. You smell quite nice, actually.” He inched closer to take another whiff.

This newfound attention made John uncomfortable—Bryce had never acted like this before. He turned back to stare straight ahead and upped the speed on his treadmill. The trainer hovered for a moment and then backed away.

Bryce wasn’t bad looking. He was thick and well muscled with a soft fuzz of hair covering his naked torso. He had been working out before John had come in, and he still had a light sheen of sweat covering his body. John had never thought of him in this regard before; he hadn’t thought of anyone sexually, really. He pushed the thought to the back of his head and kept running.

The exercise did make John feel a little better. The adrenaline pumping through his veins overrode his fever and he thought that he had gotten rid of it entirely until he was under the warm spray of the shower and then it came flooding back, worse than before. He soaped up his body, amazed by how sensitive everything felt. His nipples pebbled underneath his touch, sending a jolt of arousal straight to his cock. He continued further downwards, fingers skirting over his hardening cock and back towards his ass. As soon as his fingers made contact, his entire body shuddered with a thrum of _want_. His cock was fully hard now, and his ass was coated with something wet and slippery. He circled his hole with his fingers tentatively, teasing his hole. It felt nice. Really nice. Bracing himself, he pushed a finger in... and came all over the tiled wall, painting it with thick ropes.

Well. That was new. 

John had a libido. He was a 17-year-old boy, for Christ’s sake. It was muted, though, by the reality that he was a sex slave, and would be one for the rest of his life.

Sex was not fun for him, nor something that he fantasized about.  It was something associated with being forced, with scary older men whom he had no attraction to. When he did get off, it was by himself in the privacy of his bed or the shower, and it didn’t happen often. It was more of a release than anything; a way to let out the tension built up inside of him, with no association to other people.

The way he was feeling today, though, was different. He was horny.

He didn’t like Bryce, he didn’t want Bryce to touch him, but he missed that smell of heavy sweat and masculinity. He wanted somebody on him, pinning him down. He wanted somebody _in_ him.

He brought his hand back to his ass and pushed in again, two fingers this time. It felt really, really good. He lost himself in the motions of it, thrusting in and out, adding a third finger. He grabbed his cock with his other hand and started jerking it in time with himself, already hard again.

He felt his orgasm build this time, knew what it was before it hit him. He spilled onto his belly and collapsed into the spray, boneless. It was only in the moment of lucidity afterwards that he realized he was going to be late. _Fuck._

He quickly rinsed and toweled himself off. His ass was still thrumming with the need for something inside of it, but he ignored it this time. He grabbed a clean set of clothes from his dresser and hurried downstairs to collect his Master’s breakfast, carrying it back upstairs and making it into his room right at 6:32.

Ra’s was still groggy with sleep and if he noticed that John was late, he didn’t say anything. “Come here, sit on my lap.” John placed the tray down and crawled onto the mattress, straddling him. He gave John a pointed look and John immediately picked up a strawberry and brought it to his master’s lips.

Ra’s’ tongue caressed John’s fingers in a way that would normally make him feel gross, but instead sent butterflies down his stomach. “You taste delicious. Come here, let me smell you.” He pulled John down to lie atop him so he could bury his nose in his neck. The close contact made John feel heady. He groaned into it, grinding down on his arousal.

“You’re in heat, John. I can’t wait to finally fuck that ass. I’ve been waiting so long.”

That brought John back to reality, and he stilled. _Heat_. He was in heat. That’s what this was?

Ra’s slipped a finger into his pants and brought it to his hole. “You’re already so wet for me, slave. What a good boy.”

John didn’t want this anymore, not now that he had a grip on himself and understood why he was feeling this way. Ra’s shoved a finger in roughly and moaned, moving it around.

It felt good; it was a relief to the constant craving that he was feeling to having something fill him up. Ra’s was mouthing along his neck wetly now, adding a second finger in and scissoring them.

John felt sick.

He wanted to be alone in his bed, doing this to himself.

This wasn’t how he had pictured losing his virginity. He didn’t want to _want_ it. He wasn’t attracted to Ra’s. Whatever was happening to him, he didn’t like the feel of it. Of losing control over his own body. 

Despite all of this, he was still grinding down onto Ra’s, still moaning wantonly to the feeling of a mouth on his neck and fingers in his ass.

“My good little Omega slut. Are you ready for my cock, boy?” John whimpered. He didn’t want it, but at the same time, he wanted it so, so badly. “Get on your hands and knees like a good slave.”

John rolled off of him and into position, grateful that this meant he wouldn’t be face to face with Ra’s anymore. He closed his eyes and braced himself against his forearm. Ra’s pressed the blunt tip of his erection to John’s hole, rubbing it against him lazily before pushing the head in. John tensed at the intrusion, his whole body going rigid. “Open up for me, John.”

John’s mind was running but his body relaxed, taking what it needed. Ra’s pushed in, one long steady thrust until his cock was swallowed to the root. John let out a pained whimper.

It hurt. A lot. But at the same time, the fullness felt right, like everything was clicking into place where it should be. Ra’s started to fuck him with quick, shallow thrusts, eager to claim his new property fully. He didn’t last long, his ministrations getting less coordinated and snappier until he grabbed John’s hips desperately tight and grinded down, spilling into him.

They both lay there, momentarily sated.

John felt good. He tried not to let himself overthink it. His ass was full of come, Ra’s’ cock still deep inside of him plugging it in and maximizing his chances of being bred. They could keep going like this for hours, John’s body at its most fertile... 

As soon as he realized what he was thinking, John startled and leapt across the bed, pulling himself out from underneath Ra’s and as far away as possible. He pulled his knees to his chest and huddled into himself, eyes wide with horror.

“You—,” he couldn’t get the words out. “I—,” he tried, “am I going to get pregnant? Are you breeding me!?” How had he not thought about this sooner? 

Ra’s chuckled condescendingly, some malice behind it. “Of course not. Why would I want to procreate with you, stupid boy? You are on birth control; you have been since before you came here. What do you think that those pills you take every morning are for?”

John breathed a sigh of relief.

“This is just your heat talking. It’s designed to get you pregnant. Your body is tricking you.” He leaned back, cock hardening again, “now get back underneath me, we’re not nearly done. I will not tolerate disobedience like that again.”

***

It was night by the time Ra’s finished with him. Both of them were boneless and filthy, covered in sweat and come and lube. As soon as Ra’s gave him permission to leave, John fled to his room. He took a long, scalding hot shower, doing his best to scrub himself clean. Once his skin was red and raw, his fingers pruned and the water lukewarm, he admitted defeat and climbed out, toweling himself off and changing into a pair of sleep pants and a soft sweater.

It was only once he was safely tucked into his bed, warm and exhausted and absolutely disgusted with himself, that he let down the shaky wall that he had been holding up and began to cry. He choked and stuttered through vicious sobs, burying his face into his pillow and curling into himself, wishing that he could disappear. He felt dirty and stupid—so, so stupid.

It was a long, sleepless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: okay, so here’s some background information for the verse that doesn't fit into the fic fluidly:
> 
> Omegas are very rare, as are Alphas. Betas make up over 90% of the population. Ra's is a Beta.
> 
> Soul bonds are even more rare, but they do happen. They must be respected, even when they’re between slaves (to a lesser degree in these cases, though). 
> 
> Omegas are incredibly valuable because of their heats. Betas don't react to heats to the degree that Alphas do (Alphas are much more sensitive to them), but they can feel them. 
> 
> Bane stuff will be next chapter, finally!


	5. Chapter 5

Ra’s didn’t call for him the next day. John spent the day in bed, sore and broken, left with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.

The worst part was that his heat wasn’t gone. It had been satisfied enough that he could suppress it and try his best to ignore it, but there was still part of him that wanted more contact. Not necessarily sexual contact—he just wanted someone to hold him, to coddle him and envelop him in their body heat and tell him everything was going to be okay.

Two more days passed before Ra’s called for John again. By that time, the heat had passed entirely. Ra’s acted as though nothing had changed, barking orders at John and manhandling him around.

It took everything John had in him not to flinch every time his Master came near him.

***

One morning, John came down for breakfast to find someone new sitting at the table. She was beautiful and elegant, perched delicately over a cup of steaming tea.

Her eyes narrowed at John, “You must be my father’s new plaything.”

John immediately dropped his gaze. He didn’t know that Ra’s had a daughter. He nodded meekly and did his best to disappear into the background.

Talia al Ghul was strong and charismatic, and she took an instant dislike to John. For the most part, she ignored him— but when she did bother to acknowledge him, it was always with venom.

She had been away at school, John learned. Now that she was home, Ra’s devoted his utmost attention to her, fawning over her every want and need. Along with this, John began to fade into the background. He was still expected to be there at all times and serve his purpose, but he was no longer the shiny new toy.

John started to accompany Ra’s outside of the house, as well.  On those days, John would return to his room after breakfast to find a lovely, expensive outfit hanging by his bed. Ra’s would take him to meetings and business dinners and events, giving a less-than-gentle tug to the collar fastened around John’s neck to remind him to behave himself.

***

Though John didn’t know it at the time, everything changed the day that he returned from his morning workout to find a pair of black dress pants and a cashmere navy sweater hanging beside his bed.

“We’re going somewhere special today,” Ra’s told him later that morning. “Go fix your hair. It’s sticking up in the back.”

Ra’s was taking him, John learned, to a fight. Big and strong slaves—mostly Alphas—were groomed and primed to become absolute beasts. John had known two of these slaves in his life, both older boys at his first home who were taken away to training facilities. He hadn’t seen them again after that, but had heard stories from the other boys about what was in store. They were going to the Pit, a ring where fights of the highest caliber took place.

They arrived at the Pit and were seated around a big ring with a spiral staircase surrounding it— Ra’s on a luxuriously plush leather chair, and John kneeling on a pillow by his feet.  The room was filled with an excited chatter, and something about it made John nervous. His mouth felt dry and his stomach was full of butterflies, and he didn’t know why. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs and then dug his nails into them, trying to calm himself down. 

With a dramatic boom, all of the lights went out except for the one directly above the Pit. The chatter came to a halt immediately. The door swung open and a big, muscled slave was led into the arena. He was chained and muzzled, buzzing with testosterone and anger. The guard led him to the far side of the arena and began to undo his chains. A second, massive slave was led in by another guard and taken to the other side of the arena. Once the slaves were both unchained and the guards out of the arena, a buzzer sounded and the two were on each other.

It was a weird sensation, being near an Alpha. John could feel his body responding to their presence. He found the fight vulgar and frightening but at the same time, he was drawn to watch every moment of it.

After about twenty minutes, the one of the slaves was finally knocked unconscious with a particularly brutal blow to the head. Guards re-entered the arena to chain up the winning slave and carry out the other.

Four more of these fights went on. Each fight was more brutal than the last, with the slaves getting bigger and stronger with each round.

As the last two slaves were dragged from the arena, both too bloody and battered to stand themselves, Ra’s finally acknowledged John for the first time since they had arrived. He leaned forward and carded his fingers through John’s hair just as a new slave was led into the arena. “That slave is going to lose tonight,” he whispered smugly. “Bane will tear him apart.” Ra’s leaned back with a smirk just as the door opened for a second time.

The slave who was led out this time took John’s breath away. He was an absolute monster, with a massively muscled body and wild, feral eyes. John didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt absolutely overwhelmed. He couldn’t look away, he couldn’t breathe; all he could do was stare.

He was terrified and infatuated all at once. Bane—John could tell that it was him, he knew it just as he knew that the sky was blue and grass was green—was as Alpha as they came. He was so thick and meaty and strong.  _He would be a great provider_ , something deep and subconscious within John thought delightedly.

Bane seemed to see him, as well. His gaze felt zeroed in on John, which was a ridiculous assumption to make because there was no way he would be able to see him from so far away, especially with John shrouded in the dark. But Bane’s gaze held steady; even as his shackles and muzzle were removed, he didn’t look away.

Ra’s’ hold on him tightened, clenching a fistful of John’s hair and bringing him back to reality. He tore his gaze from Bane, reluctantly, and looked up at his Master. John felt hazy and off kilter, almost as though he was in a dream.

Ra’s didn’t seem to notice that he had grabbed John, his eyes trained sharply on Bane as well. John spared one more look at his Master and then turned back to the stage, drinking in as much of Bane as he could. Bane seemed to have snapped out of it as well, focused on his opponent now but still stealing quick glances in John’s direction.

The buzzer sounded and with a snarl, the two men lunged at each other. Bane took down his opponent with such ease that it was almost laughable. The poor slave was no match.

Ra’s pulled at John’s hair again, this time with intent. He nodded his chin towards his crotch and gave John a look. John crawled between his Master’s legs and undid his pants, pulling his cock out with reluctance. He didn't want to focus his attention on this; he wanted to keep watching Bane. John pumped his hand up and down the shaft a couple of times, composing himself, before wetting his lips and leaning down to lick the head. Just as he did, though, he was taken by a wave of anger so foreign that it stopped him in his tracks. He stuttered, confused.

Ra’s glared down at him and booted him with a sharp kick to his side, “get a move on it.”

John apologized and moved to take the head into his mouth. Once again, he was overcome with anger, this time combined with fierce feelings of  _wrong_  and possession and disgust. He couldn't do this. This wasn’t right; this wasn’t who he was supposed to be with.

This was accompanied by a deep, guttural roar from the Pit. John’s head whipped around and his eyes met immediately with Bane’s. He looked furious. His opponent was limp and unconscious at his feet, but it looked as though Bane didn’t even register that he was there. His eyes were locked on John and John only.

Bane let out a heated snarl and lunged in their direction. He was able to reach the edge of the Pit before he was taken down by 3 guards with tranquilizer guns, each firing a shot at him from different angles. His eyes went cloudy and then he was down with a  _thud_.

Ra’s was distracted enough by this that he forgot about John entirely. He watched Bane’s limp body drag out of the arena with wonder, a childish gleam in his eyes.

In the limo home, Ra’s pulled out his phone. “It’s a done deal. It will be the perfect birthday present for Talia. She's always wanted one, and I only buy my daughter the best. I don’t care how much he is—I want him now. Get me Bane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless tumblr plug: http://rohruh.tumblr.com/


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